


Freefall

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-09
Updated: 2010-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing felt like this, not flying, not fighting, <i>nothing</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freefall

Then there was the time that John and Rodney got caught skinny-dipping in the catch pool. Alcohol had been blamed for that, too much of the strong Athosian ale taken at the harvest festival, and no one said anything more about it. And if anyone noticed that Rodney and John avoided each other for three days, it was chalked up to mutual embarrassment.

It was only when Rodney came barreling into his room that John realized that their attempt at repressing their feelings was about to come crumbling down. He tried to forestall Rodney by keeping a tight grip on _War and Peace_, not looking up at the frantically pacing man.

It didn't work.

"I told you that this was stupid, Colonel. We both want to do this, and the only thing stopping us is you. You can't say that it's because people would notice, because they don't. No one here would notice unless we were fucking in the control room."

John flinched at the harsh language, so unusual for Rodney, who saw swearing as the last bastion of small minds. But he wasn't done yet, not by a long shot.

"You want this. I want this. For once, let's both get what we want, for god's sake. Especially if it keeps us from behaving inappropriately in public just because we've had too much to drink."

Sighing, he set aside his book and stood up. Rodney was still talking, right up till John took his shirt in his fists and backed him up into the wall. "Colonel? May I remind you that hitting me just proves my point, that sublimating this isn't healthy?"

"Shut up, McKay." And with that, John leaned forward and kissed Rodney. It was quite possibly the _worst_ kiss John had ever had - Rodney still was trying to talk, and not kissing back - but it left him shaken down to his toes. Everything that he'd so carefully compartmentalized and set aside came rushing in, leaving him breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against Rodney's.

Finally, _finally_, Rodney shut up, hands closing on John's shoulders and clenching convulsively. He made a humming noise, pulled back, tipped his head, and leaned back in to kiss John, and this time they came together with an almost audible _click_. Without conscious volition, John's arms wrapped around Rodney, one settling on the back of his neck, the other low on his back, and he lost himself in the kiss.

By the time the kiss broke, with one last soft touch of lip to lip, John was surprised to realize that Rodney had backed him into the wall and had one leg firmly tucked between his thighs, pressing hard against his cock, and he groaned. "We shouldn't - shouldn't do this," he said, pushing feebly at Rodney's shoulder, not that he really wanted to move him.

"It's too late for that, John. I've let your fears push this away for far too long, and we're not doing it anymore." Rodney's knee shifted, and John groaned that much louder. Rodney's hands were everywhere, pushing up his shirt, squeezing his ass, touching his cock. John moaned and shifted to spread his legs wider, hoping to encourage Rodney.

Rodney didn't seem to need any encouragement, his hands coming together to tug at John's belt, and the buttons of his fly. John let out a breath of relief when his cock was freed from its prison, only to have it turn to a gasp when Rodney sunk to his knees. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but then Rodney opened that wide, generous mouth and swallowed John's cock right down to the root.

John cried out and arched his back, his shoulders hitting the metal of the walls almost painfully. "Christ, Rodney," he moaned.

Obviously having been told that talking with his mouth full was rude, Rodney didn't say anything, just proceeded to work John hard and swift, bringing him to the edge embarrassingly fast. His orgasm was building in his extremities, gathering in the small of his back, and then Rodney. Stopped.

Pulled back completely, the only point of contact between the two of them Rodney's hand on his hip. John whined, "Please, Rodney, so fucking close."

Rodney licked a path up the underside of his dick and pulled away again. "Want you to fuck me. Want to feel you inside me, hard and fast and deep."

Grabbing at his own cock, John just barely managed to derail the orgasm that Rodney had caused with his words. He could just see it - Rodney, on his knees, John's cock sliding into him. With a deep breath, and then another, John felt like he could maybe hold back a little. A third, and he managed to say, with only a little quiver to his voice, "Sure, we could do that. But I think you're a little overdressed."

Rodney got back on his feet and unzipped his shirt, shrugging out of it quickly, as if he didn't want to give John a chance to change his mind. Pants and shoes and socks followed swiftly, leaving Rodney standing there naked in front of him, unashamedly letting John look his fill.

His hands were shaking just a little bit when he reached out, laying one hand on Rodney's chest and touching softly. Rodney's eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned. John let his hand drift lower, over a stomach that was a little soft, down to a cock that was hard and red and wet at the tip. Wrapping his hand around Rodney's dick, he gave it one slow stroke, enjoying the way that Rodney arched into the touch.

When Rodney took a step back, he almost objected, only to have Rodney say, "Fuck me?" His voice was different, soft and almost diffident, and John couldn't help the way that his stomach lurched. Rodney looked like he expected this to be the only time he was going to get this, and if that was the case John couldn't blame him for his apparent desperation.

But John was a firm believer that if you're going to be damned, you might as well be damned for the whole thing, and if he had his way, there was no way that this was going to be the only time he was going to have Rodney in his bed.

So he took the step necessary to bring him back within the circle of Rodney's arms, and tugged him close. His eyes fell shut at the feel of skin on skin, and he moaned softly. One of his hands settled on Rodney's hip, while the other moved to the back of his neck, and then they were kissing again.

This time was slow and wet and deep, and John only let it end when his body demanded oxygen. He used the grip he had on Rodney's hip to press him back to the bed, and down, till he was lying, blanketing Rodney's body with his own. Their cocks rubbed together, and John gasped at the pleasure in that simple act.

Moving slowly, he bent his head to bite softly at Rodney's neck, making him arch and groan. He nibbled gently, letting one hand drift up to touch one of Rodney's nipples. When he touched it, just the barest brush of finger against skin, he was surprised at the reaction. Rodney groaned out loud, legs spreading and hips canting up. Voice soft, Rodney started to beg, "Oh, please, John. Please fuck me, please..."

"Shh, Rodney. We'll get there." John started kissing his way down Rodney's chest, loving the way that he moved under him. It was impossible to forget that Rodney was male, and John hadn't touched a man like this in so long, he'd almost forgotten how much he missed it.

Then Rodney grabbed his shoulder and rolled the two of them over. Rodney's hands were tight with desperation on his shoulders, and John did the only thing he could - he reached up and touched Rodney's face, as gently as possible. "Hey, buddy. It's okay. Just relax."

Rodney took several deep breaths, and slowly released the grip he had on John's shoulders. His legs straddled John's hips, and he rocked forward, rubbing their cocks together. John groaned and pressed his up, trying to deepen the contact. "That's it. Oh, god, so good."

When the contact became more fleeting, John whimpered and opened eyes that he hadn't been aware that he'd closed. Rodney was reaching for the nightstand, fumbling through the detritus of day-to-day living. "You have to have something - ah ha!" He came up with the bottle of lube that John kept for his lonely masturbation sessions, and if he could only now admit to himself how often Rodney had starred in his fantasies, then he'd do so.

John took the bottle from Rodney and slicked his fingers, letting them skitter over skin that was warm and flushed down to Rodney's ass, and then slid them between his cheeks. When he found the tight puckered entrance, Rodney groaned and pushed back into his hand, forcing John's finger in deeper. "God, Rodney, you're so hot and tight. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. I've been, um, well..." Rodney flushed all over for another reason, and John couldn't hold back the laugh, that rapidly turned to a choked off gasp when Rodney's meaning penetrated. The mental image of Rodney, his own fingers up his ass while he masturbated burned through him, making him desperate to get inside him.

One finger turned into two, and then Rodney was pulling on his wrist. "Enough. I can't wait any more." John had to admit that Rodney looked like he was ready.

A drop of sweat was rolling down his face, and John lunged up to lick it away, then asked, "How do you want to do this?" Rather than answering, Rodney reached down and gripped John's cock, shifting just enough to line it up with his entrance. He pressed down, and John groaned as the head of his dick popped through.

Rodney shifted again, laying his hands flat on John's chest, and slowly worked his hips, taking John deeper in tiny increments. John wanted nothing more than to thrust up, go deep and hard, but Rodney was determined to take his time and John wouldn't risk hurting him for anything.

By the time Rodney was settled into the cup of his hips, John as deep as he could go, both of them were sweating and breathing as if they'd run a marathon. The first time that Rodney rocked, even though it was only a few inches, John groaned. "God, you're killing me."

He smiled and started to move a little faster, his hand wrapping around his cock and starting to jerk himself in time to what he was doing to John. John brushed his hand away and touched Rodney for the first time, loving the way that he was so responsive. When he twisted his hand around the head of Rodney's cock, Rodney whimpered and started to move faster.

John couldn't take any more and started to thrust. When he did, Rodney made a noise like a cat and froze, eyes going wide. John stopped, afraid that he'd hurt him. "Rodney, you okay?"

Rodney sounded strangled when he said, "I'm good, really good. Do that again!"

Cautiously, John did as he was instructed, once, twice, only to be surprised when Rodney gasped and started coming over John's hands. He gentled his grip, nursing Rodney through the aftershocks, and then Rodney slumped down over him. He tried to give him time to recover, he really did, but his balls were throbbing. "Please, god..."

It seemed to take energy Rodney didn't have, but he dragged himself up and off. John shifted enough to let Rodney lie down, only to groan again when Rodney didn't collapse but rather got on his hands and knees. "Fuck me."

John didn't have to be told twice. He rolled to his own knees and pressed between Rodney's legs. He slid in smooth, and paused, trying to give Rodney time to adjust, only to moan hard when Rodney rocked back on his knees and said, "I can take it. _Please_, John."

He pulled back a little ways, and then pushed back in, relishing the feel of Rodney around his dick. Each stroke took him higher. Nothing felt like this, not flying, not fighting, _nothing_. It didn't take long to come to the knife's edge, and then he stepped off, going into freefall.

He came back to himself, only to realize that he'd collapsed forward, pinning Rodney to the bed. He was flailing, trying to get loose. "Can't breathe. Move, dammit."

"I'm not that heavy," John groused, but he pulled free from Rodney's body and rolled to the side, wrapping himself around Rodney happily, sated in ways that he hadn't been in years.

Rodney turned to face him, face soft and happy. "Thank you."

John wasn't sure what he was being thanked for, but he held his tongue and just kissed Rodney. When he broke it off, he rested his forehead against Rodney's and said, "So, no more public drunkenness?"

Rodney's laughter chased him down into sleep.


End file.
